


Heir to the Empire

by Aristotle_410



Series: Jeon's Revenge [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Everyone is based off of star wars characters, Happy Ending, I owe everything to Star Wars, I switched up the characters and the storyline, M/M, Mafia Boss Mingyu, Mingyu becomes a good guy, Slow Burn, Smut, protective mingyu, space mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristotle_410/pseuds/Aristotle_410
Summary: Wonwoo is a tactical genius and Mingyu is just a mafia boss scoundrel looking to make an extra buck. It's hard to believe there could ever be chemistry between them but in a galaxy full of chaos it might be possible.Perhaps Wonwoo can turn the art of war into the art of love.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Meanie-centric
Series: Jeon's Revenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896892
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm such a Star Wars nerd. This chapter is just getting a foot in the door. I can't believe I did this to Wonwoo I'm sorry : (
> 
> I will make sure to explain the background and characters as I write more😇
> 
> I posted some pics below of what the scenery looks like if it helps. I love Star Wars art so much.

“Captain Choi!” a soft but barking voice called from the other end of the catwalk to the rear of the command bridge. The thick metal doors behind the junior officer closed as he began to run towards the Captain. His boots clattered against the polished metal command walkway much to Seungcheol’s dismay.

The Captain ignored the other’s obnoxiousness, turning to calmly whisper a command to one of the cartographers leaning over the holomap console below the window.

“See if you can calculate the trajectory of the ship if it were to jump from this point to-”.

“Captain Choi!” the same voice called, this time, it was breathless. 

“Sir?” the officer that was viewing the holomap said, inclining his head towards him. 

“I heard him loud and clear.” Seungcheol gritted, closing his eyes as he seethed with anger. He tapped one heavy boot on the metal floor and pushed off from it, whipping his head around to confront the lowly officer who dared to shout his name. The shorter man stumbled slightly as he made eye contact with the Captain’s wide but strained eyes.

Seungcheol scowled.

“Lieutenant Park! This is the bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer. Not some droid auction on Tatooine! Reports are to be delivered in close quarters - I repeat - in close quarters. Not shouted across the bridge. Understood?”

Jimin nodded, gulping as he stepped towards the Captain to deliver his report.

“Yes sir, sorry sir.”

“You may proceed Lieutenant.” Seungcheol replied gruffly.

“Y-yes. The TIEs have returned from their orbital reconnaissance mission sir. We’ve just received the data upload and it is ready for analysis. Shall I inform the Grand Admiral sir?”

“No.” Seungcheol said firmly, although he didn’t mean to make Jimin tense. 

“The Grand Admiral does not like it when his meditation is disturbed unless it’s an emergency. The information can wait. I will inform him personally at the end of the hour.”

“And Commander Lim?” Jimin asked, knowing that Jaebum was just itching for a combat mission. Gathering data wasn’t really the flight commander’s thing.

“Order him to put his squadron on standby in the hangar. Weapons primed and ready.” 

Jimin tried not to snicker.

“Yes sir. Right away sir.” he saluted him, stomping his foot as he straightened his posture. Smiling brightly, he marched on the command walkway back to the communications station beyond the wide double doors. 

Seungcheol watched his back get smaller and smaller before the doors let out a soothing hum, sliding across the girders on the floor and clicking shut. Even if he was only a few years older than the Lieutenant, he did not find any of his antics amusing. Rather, it was pathetic. No one as young as Jimin would have made it on the _Chimaera_ if one asked him three years ago. Ever since the decline of the Empire began, Seuncheol watched as the crew became younger and younger as they were forced to press youth into service due to crew shortages. The inexperience of the crew combined with their lack of skill would have produced a fatal concoction if not for the tactical brilliance of the Grand Admiral they all served under. Not only did his prowess in military strategy mitigate the symptoms of having an inexperienced and unskilled crew. But his mind was so sharp and dangerous that the condition of the crew didn’t matter.

His meditation chamber was dozens of floors below the bridge tower. Even if they were a distance apart, Seuncheol could feel his authority, emanating to every corner, every crevice, every niche on the ship. It was the Grand Admiral who owned the _Chimaera_ , and he was the supreme authority of the fleet that had come from the Unknown Regions to save the Empire. Yet even after travelling for days, pondering the state of the galaxy after the Rebel Alliance had overthrown the Emperor, Seungcheol was still in disbelief. How could it have all come to this?

He looked down at the cartographer beside him, a man no older than twenty-one. 

The _Chimaera_ was supposed to be the ship that would make or break the Empire’s best officers fresh off the assembly line from the Imperial Academy. But now, it was a kindergarten for new recruits. 

He tried to shrug off the amount of disdain for the ship’s current crew and the disappointment he felt when he learned that he would be leaving his friends back in the Unknown Regions. But what did he get in exchange? A crew full of misfits and fools, left over from the great battles between the Empire and its usurpers? 

He stepped angrily towards the command bridge’s viewport, stopping once he could see his reflection in the window panes. Beyond his enraged self, was an orange planet way out there in the distance. He found himself transfixed by the orange orb, like all of his emotions had dissipated into the vacuum of space.

Despayre glowed in the darkness. From outer space, the gaseous atmosphere of the former Imperial prison colony wisped and curled like waves and tentacles. A storm of dark orange clouds had formed over a wide basin that occupied most of the world’s western hemisphere. Where the rays of the dimming sun touched the surface, he could see a large elevated plateau that appeared to have been violently forced up from the crust. However, the cataclysm did not seem to have been natural. No, he thought. No earthquake, asteroid or movement of tectonic plates could have been responsible for the kind of impression that marred it’s dusty surface. It had to have been from an unnatural cause, and in a few moments his suspicions were proven correct as an intelligence analyst - who had worked at a station alongside the partial vista of windows - had prepared Commander Lim’s report for the Captain. The lean young man had got up from his seat at the console and handed Seungcheol an electronic tablet no more than four inches wide.

As he began to read it, his past suddenly rose to the surface of his mind as if to provide context for the startling revelation at the end of the report.

The report and it’s follow up analysis had informed him that the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station or ‘Death Star’ for short, had been relocated in orbit above Despayre from its original construction site at Geonosis. That was where the Clone Wars began all those years ago. 

Then it all made sense. Yet he didn’t slap himself on the forehead for not knowing. 

Seungcheol had served the Republic in the Clone Wars as a lieutenant-commander, and then as a commander on a Star Destroyer during the reign of the Empire. Yet he had never been as well informed about the Emperor’s secret project even if he had participated in the very battle that concluded in its destruction. The memories at the Battle of Endor was something he wished he could have suppressed. Yet the conviction did not stop him from wondering.

Perhaps he had never taken any interest in the megalomania or errant ventures of the dark and mysterious ruler of the galaxy. 

Seungcheol’s ignorance of the Death Star perhaps could be attributed to his simplistic interest and devotion to battle, or perhaps the mere fact that it was kept secret, or the assumption that he had never possessed faith in the super weapon in the first place. No one knew. But if the reason had been the latter, the scar that marked Despayre threatened to alter his convictions.

How could the Empire of done _that_ to a planet, yet it could not stop a rag tag team of rebels from infiltrating the superweapon and destroying it from within?

Only someone with the genius of the Grand Admiral could ever conceive of an answer.

The storm swirled westward, like a hurricane of red, brown and orange. The heat lightning had ignited small contained areas of flammable gas producing globular balls of light which illuminated the clouds. The mark left by the Death Star could now be clearly seen. On the yellow sand covered surface, a long strip of cracked crust sprawled out in a complex system of canyons and crevices where the sun never touched. But a large valley - between two plateaus that had abruptly risen from the ground - interestingly reflected the sun. The scanners of the _Chimaera_ had classified the valley as almost completely being composed of fulgurite - a type of glass formed when electrical discharge makes contact with soil or rock. But Seungcheol had only seen human sized pieces of fulgurite. Never before had he ever laid his eyes upon an entire valley of it. No electrical storm could have produced that either. 

After reading that information, Seungcheol tensed. The Death Star _itself_ had made that “blemish” on the surface. One discharge from the battle station had carved a massive canyon into the ground and raised the lands above it. Really?

He swallowed the information and the capabilities of the project that the Emperor had built for more than a decade. He was awestruck at least. He couldn’t imagine how glorious it would have looked if he had been an eye witness of the test when it took place. 

He tried to bring himself back to the mission at hand. However, his mind could not help but wander. What if this weapon had been in the hands - or under the control of the Grand Admiral? Could _he_ have done it, could _he_ have brought the Rebel Alliance to its knees in one swift battle? Of course, Seungcheol could not downplay the younger’s abilities. Which reminded the Captain that he had to report to him.

——II——

Captain Choi’s dark leather boots created a fracas as he walked with his weight being distributed on the gray and polished metallic floors. The hallways were of the standard design of an Imperial Star Destroyer. Despite the brightly lit walls, the hallway was gray with a dark ceiling. 

The walk from the bridge to the Grand Admiral’s chambers was not far, but the man had begun to feel slightly tired. Although the younger had kept him around because his mind was bright and refreshing. Most of all, Seungcheol was always there to challenge and test his theories. It was evident even to a cadet that the Grand Admiral always held great respect for his crew, and even greater respect for those that challenged his strategy. Of course, when they weren’t in the middle of a battle. 

His boots stopped in front of his superior officer’s quarters, and he nodded to the stormtroopers standing guard. For reasons of secrecy plus the Grand Admiral’s own distaste for making frequent public appearances, he had preferred to stay inside his suite for the most part. Unlike the normal access panels that were attached to certain areas of the ship like the reactor chamber or the bridge, the Accommodations Block had boasted its own customized and intricate access panel. Not only did Seungcheol have to show his identification card, but he had to move in for the retinal scanner device. 

The stormtroopers attempted to direct him to the small microphone slot built into the access panel but after years of conducting the same routine, he could do it in his sleep. 

“Captain Choi” he spoke tiredly into the device. A second later the machine emitted mindless jarble and displayed sporadic wavelengths on its screen as it decrypted his voice, its pattern, wavelengths... every minute detail and converted it to code for the machine to understand. Finally, one of the stormtroopers pulled the Captain’s identification card out from the card reader as it blinked green. 

“Sir, you’re free to enter.” the leader of the guard said. But before he had completed his first step, a wave of cold air washed over him. Then, a spike of uncomfortable energy ran up from the tail of his spine to his shoulders. He should have reacted normally to the feeling by now but those cold fingers and sharp, ragged fingernails that poked his back always made him jump.

Before he knew it, warm breath had created a dew drop on the underside of his jaw. 

In response, Seungcheol’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock as he stumbled to confront _what_ was behind him.

“Dammit Rukh, I oughta’ light your Noghri ass up in flames!” Seuncheol growled furiously, but he was out of breath. It was not as if Nohgri were naturally stealthy. Their stubby and awkward frames usually hindered their ability, and the general perception that they _could_ be stealthy. Rukh however maintained a built frame with thin legs to provide for speed, but a hard and muscular chest and arms to drive his strikes and protect his center. His hands and wrists were quite bony however, and they curled around his weapons like the arms of a skeleton or grim reaper. He had dark leathery skin, similar to that of an alligator, with smooth and slimy scales and less noticeable but tough exterior cartilage that dotted his body. His feet were covered in mucus and protruded rather uncomfortably from his ankles. 

Attached to his toes were long and yellow freshly sharpened toenails that scraped against the metal as he crouched down to peer up at him. On his knees were extra padding while his back held the fabrics of a warrior tribe. His arms were decorated in the bones of some animal which spiraled and ended in sharp tips. His waist held a shiny medallion-like object that resembled a styled axe head held up by a belt made of shiny interconnected but separate metallic pieces that appeared as oversized components of a wrist watch band. He wore nothing on his bald scalp besides a silver chain which was held up by cartilage that extended out along his forehead, catching the chain and allowing it to slump in between each small horn. 

The only trait that Rukh shared with the rest of his species was his acute sense of hearing. Decorating his left ear, was an earring that appeared as a rectangular piece of silver about as thin as a coin which hung from his lobe. He had a sharp jaw and high cheekbones, but wide and exposed nostrils that contrasted his other features. His eye sockets were concave, but his sclera was pure white while his pupils were pitch black. He always held a scowl, or an intimidating pout as a warrior would have called it. But Seuncheol wasn’t a warrior.

He noted that the corners of Rukh’s teeth stuck out like a dog. He even snorted like one sometimes as well. An idea came to him that Rukh did not always seem like the legitimate bodyguard to his superior officer and much rather like a stowaway buffoon. At least that served to lessen his fear of the alien. Unfortunately however, he often had to refrain from shooting the Noghri on sight before he saw his identification card. 

Rukh backed away from the Captain, slumping his shoulders and swaying his arms as he watched Seungcheol turn around to a set of closed doors. It seemed as though a thick wall had suddenly opened in front of him as each door piece retracted slowly. The cool space beyond him was the antechamber in which officers would wait to speak with the Grand Admiral. Currently, the room was dark, barely illuminated by the flickering lights belonging to the motion and heat sensors, or the alarm system. Seungcheol had to tell himself that Rukh was in the hallway behind him, joined with the stormtroopers. But when the Captain turned his head around just to confirm his assumption, he saw that the Nohgri had disappeared. 

Gulping, Seungcheol continued walking forward until a figure had manifested out of nowhere and he bumped into a hard body. Rukh’s white cat eyes stared directly into his frightened one’s until the aliens expression softened, and stepped aside. 

“He will see you now, Captain. Choi.” Rukh slithered in almost an overconfident manner. 

Once the Grand Admiral installed himself as Emperor, and Seuncheol inherited command of the _Chimaera_ , he would make sure to have the Nohgri executed. There was no need for some alien bodyguard when a whole squad of stormtroopers could do the same job.

Alas, the final set of doors opened to reveal a slightly lighter chamber. This one was vast, but contained the same cold feeling as every other room on the ship. There was no recessed lighting or anything bright for that matter to disturb the dark serenity that the chamber emanated. 

From the entrance way to the back were two rows of polished iron support beams which had failed to rust. However, their awkward position had taken away from the aesthetics of the room and thus they were shielded from looking entirely uly by decorative pillars and plinths. The stands held artifacts and treasures which would jog the Grand Admiral’s memory being the scholar that he was. At the very least, the artifacts were there for decoration and just being pleasing to look at.

The pieces that truly caught Seungcheol’s attention - considering that he had no particular interest in history, art, or archeology - were the two obsidian obelisks that shined like buffed marble, the lights built into the floor focusing upon them. 

“I see the obsidian extracted from Fortress Vader has caught your attention Captain?” a voice spoke. This time, it was not the dry snake like voice that belonged to Rukh, or the soft but nagging voice of Lieutenant Park. Seungcheol looked up to the step pyramid-like structure on which a command chair was situated, perfect for someone who deserved to be exalted.

The man who sat at the pinnacle was none other than Grand Admiral Jeon, bathing in the artificial but penetrating deep blue light that fell upon him as if he was the center of a stage.

Ocean blue light cascaded over his flawless skin, still unblemished despite all of the conflict around them; neither bearing scars or wrinkles. Wonwoo was exceptionally young for a Grand Admiral, in fact, he was the youngest Imperial officer who held a considerable amount of power. He was only twenty-four when he was given the title, and now it had been three years. Three years since he had been sent to the Unknown Regions by the Emperor to annex more territory for his majesty. Three years since the Emperor had made the _mistake_ of putting Darth Vader in command of the Death Star’s defense fleet rather than the Grand Admiral. Three years since the Emperor’s prized possession was destroyed by the scum that were the rebels. 

Yet in those three years, Wonwoo had been consolidating his power in the Unknown Regions, building a force to take back the galaxy from the rebels. In that span of time, the Grand Admiral had also been cultivating his skills and strategies, making his mind an even more dangerous weapon than that failure they called the ‘Death Star’.

Yet Wonwoo had shown no signs of petty validation; that he was right about the Death Star. Nor did he show excitement and eagerness when he received the news that there was no longer a ‘Darth Vader’ or an ‘Emperor’ who could get in his way of the Imperial throne. The loss of the Death Star, as well as the Emperor and his powerful disciple, Darth Vader, had crippled their morale, affecting everything far and wide, all the way out into the Unknown Regions. 

The Empire had descended into civil war while the Rebel Alliance branded themselves the ‘New Republic’. 

Pathetic. 

Yet the Grand Admiral was not devastated like the rest of them. He had tasted defeat before and he knew how to handle it and use it to his advantage. 

The rays of blue light that were used to draw the viewer’s attention to the Grand Admiral’s artifacts reflected off of the glass casings and onto Wonwoo himself. The Captain would never have thought his superior officer to be arrogant, but he couldn’t help but notice the trick of the lighting. Perhaps the greatest work of art and the most awe-inspiring tale was Wonwoo himself. The older man couldn’t hide the fact that he had been spooked by Wonwoo’s striking voice echoing throughout the chamber. And he certainly could not hide that the younger stirred something within him. It wasn’t just respect for his rank, but admiration for his stunning yet composed appearance.

Seungcheol’s eyes traced the outline of Wonwoo’s face, trailing his long and narrow nose and his dark eyes. Seungcheol was always left agape by those eyes. Any minute they could melt him with their fiery but non-explosive passion, or freeze him with their icy coldness.

He spotted the shiny lines of his black hair which had been combed over, reflecting the subdued lighting. Wonwoo was just sitting there, undisturbed, and relaxed, but his dark pink lips were formed in a pout, curved enough to provide a view of his cupid’s bow. However, Seungcheol could tell that the man had been in deep thought since the status-readout console and the holoprojector were still making quiet hums. 

“The material was forged on Mustafar. That’s why you can feel the dark side emanating from them. They have that allure don’t they?” Wonwoo asked calmly, but Seuncheol could only stumble over his words, shocked that Wonwoo had traced his line of sight compounded with the malevolence that the obsidian artifacts had touched him with.

“What is it? Captain.” Wonwoo asked. His tone sounded slightly defeated and tired. No one had an appreciation for archeology as he did. Nevermind that, Seungcheol could tell that the Grand Admiral most likely knew what he was going to tell him. 

He cleared his throat.

“We have arrived at Despayre sir. Scanners have detected life forms concentrated along a large valley on the surface. If you wish, I will prepare your shuttle and deploy a TIE fighter squadron to sweep the area.” Seungcheol said, subliminally requesting permission. 

Wonwoo’s expression stayed casual. 

“As you may, Captain. However, I doubt that any weaponry on the surface poses a threat to us. But I shall take Rukh as a precaution.” He said affirmatively. Wonwoo’s voice was deep but sharp, boiling up from his chest but concentrated into needle-point accuracy with his pronunciation.

The Grand Admiral’s bodyguard never strayed too far from whom he was protecting. Stealth was Rukh’s domain, but from what the scanners showed, there wasn’t really any cover on Despayre. Just sand and plateaus. And from what he heard, after the Empire had abandoned the planet, the inhabitants of the penal colony devolved into hideous creatures yet still maintained half of their sanity. It was a double-threat.

Wonwoo pressed down on a button attached to his chair and the hologram projector built into the floor down the set of steps in front of him activated. The machine projected a digital file which the Grand Admiral navigated through with the keypad on his arm rest. Wonwoo stared at the report in front of him, his eyes narrowed and unblinking while his head tilted downwards. 

“Since the Death Star project was so confidential, Imperial Intelligence most likely kept information gathering and the storage of records to a minimum.” the younger said disappointedly. 

“It is unfortunate, really.” Wonwoo continued. “I was intrigued by the gash that the Emperor’s secret toy had inflicted on the planet. Whether a prison riot had taken place, or it was Grand Moff Tarkin who simply wanted to test the weapon… I doubt we will know for certain”. 

The information report however did leave a record behind of imperial landing sites, and a map of where most of the inhabitants had been settled at the time. 

Wonwoo zoomed in on a particular location. It all looked the same to Seungcheol considering the entire surface of the planet was orange desert. Yet Wonoo’s sharp eyes pinpointed something important.

“There is a landing platform beyond the perimeter of this settlement.” the younger said, clicking his keypad once more.

“It’s covered in sand. It must not have been used for quite a while.”

“A sandstorm perhaps?” Seungcheol raised an eyebrow.

“Possibly. But as the sensors detected nothing along the lines of a communications array or space craft, I suspect that no ship has ever landed or taken off since the Empire left.” 

“They must have been in some sort of miniature dark age since the Clone Wars with the planet’s prison populace having lost the knowledge of how to achieve interstellar travel. I hope they still remember how to weld and assemble parts. If not, perhaps the brains they have left still possess the capacity to learn.”

Seungcheol doubted it.

“The people down there must be primitives sir.” he said with a hint of disgust. But Wonwoo closed his eyes and gave a knowing smirk. 

“That will not negate their potential to be useful to us Captain.” he replied, ignoring the older man’s disapproval for beings he deemed inferior. It was another one of his weaknesses that disheartened the Grand Admiral. As in the past, Imperial doctrine argued that Wonwoo himself was inferior on the basis of his astrographical origins. Nevermind species. If Wonwoo was not human, he doubted he would have ever made it in the Navy.

His thoughts were cut off by the snap of Wonwoo’s voice.

“On second thought, disregard my previous command and order the TIE squadron to conduct an aerial sweep above the closest settlement. The fighter craft presence will frighten them into submission. There will be no need for bloodshed. Inform my shuttle pilots to make way for departure in T minus 5 minutes.”

Seungcheol saluted, hunching over slightly as he rushed to the door.

“Oh and Captain.” Wonwoo said with a voice that was feather light. 

The older man stopped on the balls of his feet.

“Y-yes sir?”

Wonwoo looked at him with his brows lowered. His expression almost looked to be a scowl.

“This mission is not a matter of Imperial doctrine. I want you to imagine that your mind has been wiped clean. But… do not think that loyalty to me is the most important thing. You see, it’s practicality, not dogma. The two are incompatible, just as your presuppositions are incompatible with victory. _Our_ victory. This is for the Empire.”

Seungcheol refrained from arguing, caving under the pressure of the Grand Admiral’s stare.

“Promise me, Captain?” Wonwoo said, shocking him. The younger never phrased commands as questions to his subordinates. Unless he was special. It was in a gentle voice too, as if Wonwoo was worried he would become bitter. 

The Captain stood up straight and clenched his fists, looking at Wonwoo as if he were his equal.

“I promise.”

——III——

Rukh did not need to be told to accompany the Grand Admiral to the hangar bay. However, Seungcheol would agree that he and Rukh had different definitions of what “accompany” meant. For almost the entire walk, the Nohgri was in the lead, sniffing out any potential dangers that may have lurked within the bright, visible hallways of the Star Destroyer _Chimaera_. But once Wonwoo had acquired an entourage of stormtroopers and naval officers who wished to deliver status updates, the bodyguard’s element of stealth had been compromised. Thus, when no one seemed to be looking (except for the judgemental Seungcheol), Rukh detached an air vent panel, and jumped up into a ventilation shaft which ran above the network of hallways. From there, he could directly monitor the Grand Admiral and his attendants, while also tapping into the channel of sound waves that echoed throughout this particular part of the ship. A Nohgri’s acute sense of hearing allowed him to identify who or what lay ahead.

The Grand Admiral’s accomodations were not far from the hangar, but it had taken up about half the time that Wonwoo had given the pilots to prepare. Thus his bodyguard appeared in plain sight adjacent to his client as he and Seungcheol waited for the shuttle’s loading ramp to meet the floor. Seungcheol watched as the last of the fighters from the _Chimaera’s_ squadron of TIEs disappeared from their line of sight as they exited the ventral hangar port. The sound of their engines - like jet turbines - rang throughout the vast warehouse-like room. The Captain’s view of the orange atmosphere of Despayre was obstructed by the shuttle’s loading ramp extending and then thudding against the black polished floor. Rukh stepped into the shuttle first to make sure no traps could be set off by motion sensors. 

Seungcheol had personally thought that the precautions were a little much, but then again, Wonwoo was the Empire’s most deadly strategist. Or what was left of the Empire for that matter.

A platoon of stormtroopers boarded the shuttle behind Seungcheol and the shuttle was sealed shut for space travel. Exhaust and hydraulic vapor wheeshed from the pistons and joints of Wonwoo’s Lambda-class shuttle as it lifted off. 

Hovering over to the exit way, the ship descended into the ionosphere of Despayre, trailing its TIE escort.

“If Grand Moff Tarkin ordered the firing of the Death Star because of a revolt, then can we really rely upon these primitives for labor?” Seungcheol asked, seated up front in the cockpit. 

Wonwoo hummed, crossing his legs as he laid back in his chair.

“We will find out soon enough Captain. But in the meantime, maintain focus on the scanners. It is possible that the sand storm could have been scattering the TIEs’ while they were on their sensor sweep. The Empire - in their evacuation - may have left behind weapons and technology adequate enough to threaten us.” 

Just as Seungcheol was about to resume his inquiry, he was interrupted by the sound of static on the scanners and the long range communications link. 

“We have entered a dust storm sir, the antennas will be temporarily knocked out” one of the pilots explained. 

Looking out a small porthole, Seungcheol could see clouds of brown sediment kicked up by the wind up close. Suddenly, the older man jumped back in his seat when a flash of white light lit up the clouds. And then, the sound of thunder shook the shuttle as if a freighter had been rumbling overhead.

“Relax Captain, the radar system is still operational and the metal body of the ship will distribute any electrical discharge around us. We are quite safe.” the Grand Admiral said, also calming the storm troopers hanging onto the overhead railing in the cabin behind them. 

Rukh only rolled his eyes. 

Seungcheol’s fears dissipated as the Grand Admiral’s personal craft broke through the stratosphere, allowing the fast moving wind to take it towards their destination. Despayre’s local star pierced the storm and reflected off the shining shells of the TIE squadron flying in front of them at a lower altitude. 

The shuttle mimicked their movements but at a slower pace. 

Soon, a bazaar - centered around a small oasis - became visible from the cockpit viewport. At first, Seungcheol had assumed it just to be a mirage, but the ship’s scanners confirmed its presence. Scrap metal shelters, baked clay buildings, and sand huts dotted the ground in which they were too numerous to count. The locals had developed some sort of micro economy, in which a large space was designated to be a trading post. Which meant, there were other settlements nearby and more labor to exploit. The Grand Admiral would be pleased. 

Wonwoo’s ship touched down on the landing pad he had observed from his quarters back on the _Chimaera_. At this point, only a horizon of flat, or round roof tops could be seen, as the town held no complex multi-story buildings. But as the Lambda-shuttle’s passengers emptied out onto the landing pad, they saw a groove in which there was a path that led into the dense jungle of structures. There appeared to be no activity by the locals on the outskirts of the town, but Seungcheol had seen a few residents scurrying away upon seeing the Imperials. It was likely that they were afraid after seeing off-worlders as well as threatening flying contraptions to which Wonwoo had ordered to hover overhead. However, even if the inhabitants devolved, they might have retained memories of what stormtroopers looked like. Their appearance may have ignited past trauma.

“Impressive. It was our mere presence that petrified them into leaving.” Wonwoo observed, eyeing the clearest path into the town. “Squad. Form up behind me. Rukh will scour ahead.” 

It was necessary that the townspeople instantly recognize Wonwoo as the leader of the Imperial force which had intruded on them. Safety was a priority as well, which explains why Rukh was given a lead. The Noghri had disappeared around the corner all the while performing acrobatics and jumping rooftops, earning an internal huff from Seungcheol. Meanwhile, the Grand Admiral started forward.

Seungcheol remained alert for any movement, and osalated his head to look for anyone hiding behind recessed walls, entrance ways or other arrangements. On the other hand, his commander took the time to admire the architecture, analyzing each detail, and looking over the vast smoothness of the sandstone buildings. What was most interesting was the winding path that they now walked. It was not the most efficient and time saving, however to Wonwoo, it spoke as a natural feature, imperfect for a town in the middle of a barren desert. It was rather a work of art than a construction project, with a chiseled sandstone road, quaint and compact buildings and a narrow but refreshing open-air feeling to it.

What intrigued the Grand Admiral most was the absence of any life, including sound, a breeze, or lights. Spotting half a dozen of shattered clay pottery and utensils, as well as a tipped over wagon, it appeared as though the town dwellers had hastily left.

A stable of some sorts, that once contained animals had been smashed open with splintered wooden gates all around it. Further ahead, Seungcheol saw that a few tent poles had been knocked over, and the cabana it had been holding up hung in front of the building it was attached to. Dessert fruits resembling some kind of cactus plant had splattered all over the ground, trampled by a stampede. The stormtroopers managed to snatch a glance as they walked by while Seungcheol narrowed his eyes. The heat signature sensor which the Sergeant held in his hand did not indicate any organics in the area. Wonwoo could have simply contacted Commander Lim since he was flying over them. Yet he suspected the Grand Admiral enjoyed being surprised.

The ex-prisoners couldn’t be hiding within the buildings he thought, as ladders to the upper levels were still out and not put away. In towns like these, natives would often retract the ladders which lead to the second floor which kept intruders out. But in this case, they mysteriously hadn’t. Even animal tracks, and the footprints of smaller creatures were pressed into the pathway which continued ahead of them. 

As the group advanced around another corner, rays of light came into view, shining on a complex of mud brick buildings which appeared to be semi-developed apartments. The structures at this point were about three stories tall, capable enough to block out the afternoon sun. The air was cooler than it was on the landing pad, and a breeze suddenly wisped through the canyon of mud brick apartment blocks. The wind had carried a sound of whispers, and quiet voices which held fear, confusion and anxiety. The group had finally reached a break in the pathway. And as the Imperials rounded the next corner, the sun immediately assaulted their eyes. Seungcheol and Wonwoo’s took time to adjust however the squad of stormtroopers fanned out and lifted their blasters. Crowds of people who stood in front of them with their backs turned, noticed their arrival and backed away in fear. The Imperials had reached a large clearing, or plaza, in which all of the locals had gathered. Men and women, draped with cloth that barely covered them modestly, arranged themselves into successions along the perimeter of the plaza. From there, they watched the off-worlders with careful curiosity, heads tilted, and quietly chattering with one another. It was perfect actually, Seungcheol thought. The people had done all the work for them, getting in a massive assembly to be rounded up. How thoughtful.

The clearing was some sort of market place, a trading post as Wonwoo had noted. He had not taken the time to scan the faces of the crowd. Instead, he stared into oblivion, head held high, and hands clasped behind his back. Seungcheol noticed that he must have been mentally preparing an opening statement. 

A few seconds passed, and the younger lowered his chin, eyes darting left and right, focusing in on something bizarre, but not surprising. The inhabitants, he deduced, were from all across the galaxy. But he noted that they were predominantly from Kashyyyk, Utapau, and Mon Calamari. Kashyyyk was known to be rebellious and very unfriendly to the Empire. Yet Imperial rule persisted, enslaving the planet’s inhabitants. After every uprising, Despayre and other worlds like Kessel would be filled with survivors of Imperial victories. Utapau on the other hand had been relatively peaceful yet the Empire had used the lie that it had voluntarily hosted the leaders of the Separatists during the Clone Wars as an excuse to relocate the populaces of their sink-hole cities like they were war criminals being marched to their deaths. Mon Calamari was known to harbor anti-Imperial sentiments, in fact, the Quarren species who had coexisted with the Mon Calamari under Imperial rule had once built massive warships for the Seperatist Navy. Yet the crackdown on the planet was subtle but devastating, hence why there were so many of them on Despayre. 

  
  
  


But the diverse origins of the prisoners was not what prolonged the Grand Admiral’s contemplation. Nearly all of them had at least one prosthetic limb, or body part. 

More than a decade of slavery to the Empire would have inevitably ended in the loss of limbs as well as spirit. But while the people of Despayre had lost their arms and legs, their spirit had still remained. It was in their dwellings, architecture, economy and everyday lives. Yet while the spirit of the prisoners may have boiled to a revolt that had ended in the planet being subject to the Death Star’s superlaser test, they were still exploitable to the Grand Admiral. 

“I don’t blame them for being so withdrawn. If they know what’s good for them they wouldn’t dare to attack us.” Seungcheol huffed. 

“Wise words, Captain, but we do not want to provoke them as well. We require bodies to power our war machine.” his commander warned. “We will attempt this painlessly at first, and compel them to submit without force.” 

In his hand was a microphone attached to a small amplifier connected to his utility belt by a thick black cord. He raised it inches away from his mouth which had become tense. Narrowing his eyes and tilting his head down, the Grand Admiral spoke.

“The Galactic Empire formally re-establishes its jurisdiction over this planet. You are all now its subjects and must yield to its demands.” Wonwoo began, noticing that some of the people curiously paying attention to him had stepped back at his loud and commanding voice. They probably hadn’t seen an electronic amplifier in quite some time. Considering that the Imperial Wardens and prison guards used them often. 

“Our methods will be harmless if you comply with my orders. You have been called upon once again through mandatory labor from the Empire. For when the Empire still exists, your duty to it still must be fulfilled. Thus, it is in your best interest that you do not resist, that is, if you value your lives.”

Wonwoo’s finishing statement had been downplayed by a group of burly monstrosities that Sungcheol had recognized to be Wookies in dire need of a haircut. They had moved up from the crowd in the center prompting his stormtroopers to direct their weapons to the threat. Yet he lifted his hand to dismiss them. 

Seungcheol identified what looked to be the leader of the gang who seemed to have the most courage of them all. He was a buff towering figure with an electronic eye locked into one of his sockets and strapped to his head. 

Their shoulders slumped, and they more or less dragged themselves when they walked, much like Rukh did. But each individual one of them seemed like they could physically overwhelm the Noghri. Hence why Seuncheol thought a fight between a Nohgri and Wookie would be entertaining.

The Captain was brought back to glaring at the Wookie as it spoke.

“You and what Empire?” the leader of the group spat. 

Meanwhile, the other inhabitants of the town distanced themselves from the potential complication. The group was known to have a history of aggressive outbursts. Despayre had been in a lawless state after all. 

Their deep growls and witty jab was not enough to make the Grand Admiral step back however. Rather, a stripe of light coruscated over both of Wonwoo’s eyes. The aliens thought he was reaching for his blaster pistol but the black-haired man had actually clicked a button on his remote cylinder in his utility belt. 

Wonwoo smiled knowingly. 

“This one”.

As if perfectly timed, a platoon of Imperial scout walkers or AT-STs stopped dead in their tracks at the boundaries of the town. Their soaring height and size could be seen even over the roofs of the buildings. 

Soon, the people in the plaza realized they were trapped between Wonwoo’s armed men and the sinister contraptions that he had brought to their planet. The group of Wookies that had confronted the Grand Admiral appeared taken aback, prompting Seungcheol to raise his blaster pistol. But an angered expression returned on the leader’s face and he released a growl. 

“I-I’m not g-going back.”. He choked eyeing the scout walkers. Being years away from civilization, both in light years of distance and in terms of time, the Wookie tried his best at speaking coherently. The pain of being ripped away from his homeworld and suffering from the demanding physical labor he had endured had put a strain on his vocal chords.

“I’ve never known what’s out there in the universe, never experienced happiness, never had a life of my own. The Empire might think they can scare me into bowing down to you, but I got nothing left to lose.” the Wookie gritted his teeth, lifting his arms to swing down at the Grand Admiral like a bear going in for an attack. But before he could complete his swing, a dark streak darted by, like a blot caught on a camera. The next thing Seungcheol could see was a severed prosthetic hand belonging to the man who had attempted to assault his superior officer. Although...to no avail. 

The mechanical limb twitched and sparked, while the Wookie held his sparking and smoking elbow, his teeth chattering in anger and shock. And then a loud and sharp burst whizzed at supersonic speed. Seungcheol stepped back in awe, as the large hairy alien collapsed face first onto the sandstone ground, displacing dust and creating a loud thump. 

Rukh’s figure became visible behind the once-standing Wookie as he still held out his special blaster. The Captain was rather terrified than impressed, silently thanking the universe that Rukh was on their side. Then, Seungcheol turned his head to check on Wonwoo, his expression wide and anxious. There - in front of where the Wookie had been standing - was the Grand Admiral who had not winced or acted upon reflex. He had not moved an inch but rather returned to staring into oblivion. His displeased expression created horrifying thoughts in the minds of the other town dwellers, but Wonwoo was not Tarkin or any other _brutal_ Imperial officer for that matter. At least not compared to their standards. Wonwoo had great plans for them though, plans that would make anyone choose death over misery.

Then, detaching his communications link from his chest pocket, the people’s fears were confirmed. 

“Commander Min.” Wonwoo spoke to the ground-commander who was currently leading the force of scout walkers.

“You are authorized to advance at your convenience. Please, make a good impression.” 

On cue, the scout-walkers began to stomp forward. Their joints squeaking and whining as their heads rotated towards their targets. 

The ground around Wonwoo’s entourage began to vibrate, and the pebbles around the dead alien in front of them bounced in the air. Then the crunch of crushed rock and sand could be heard as Seungcheol watched the colossal machines of war pulverize multiple sand huts beneath their feet. Wooden support beams which held up tent sheets snapped and splintered, sending debri crashing into other buildings. Other structures disintegrated, sending plumes of dust into the air and washing over them like waves between the jungle of buildings. And then, they fired multiple shots to force the townspeople to huddle together, making their capture easier. Metal groaned as the force of the scout walkers’ laser cannons pushed their heads back slightly. Yet it didn’t stop them from going on a rampage.

Seungcheol looked up at the low hum of a ship's engines and witnessed three Gozanti-class cruisers go to each corner of the city and land. Their usual purpose was to carry supplies for the Imperial Navy, however he was aware that some had been renovated to fit multiple holding cells. Three would be enough to transport the entire population to the brig of the _Chimaera_. The rest would be executed if it wasn’t. Well, standard Imperial protocol would have demanded it. But Wonwoo wasn’t standard. He was a Grand Admiral for a reason and he used resources wisely.

Seungcheol realized he was over analyzing the mission at hand and he looked at the black-haired man in front of him. The Grand Admiral stood there observing the orderly fashion of his forces conduct their raid. Then his eyes moved towards Despayre’s inhabitants and observed the chaos.

From chaos there would be order, and the Empire would be born again.

  
  
  


____________ End of Chapter One____________

Star Destroyer and TIE fighters chasing the Millenium Falcon

Size Comparison

Vader’s Star Destroyer ambushing the rebels LOL

The bridge

This is just concept art of the planet Utapau surrendering to the Seperatists. Lol this doesn’t have anything to do with the story but I just think it looks amazing. 

One of Utapau’s sinkhole cities.

Wonwoo’s Lambda-shuttle leaving the _Chimaera_

Gozanti-class cruiser (probs as big as a small airplane)

Vader overseeing the work camp on Despayre

Despayre with the Death Star under construction in orbit.


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a quick chapter I wanted to put out. It's not much but I hope it leaves room for the imagination.

“It’s good to be home, aint it? Mingyu asked, hooking his thumbs in his belt as the exit ramp of his ship hit the ground. Their secret base was more or less an ancient palace they had moved into and set up shop in. With a few days of retrofitting and some renovations, the fort could be used for just about anything from leisure to operations. What was cool about it though was the outside look. It was made of brown stone with cracks running wide and deep in some places. It gave it that antique appearance. Although there were some among his gang who weren’t so appreciative. 

“Whatever you say boss.” Seokmin drawled out, sounding as though he hated his job.

“You call it home. I call it some stupid tree house in the middle of nowhere.” Yugyeom muttered, cringing at the sound that the insects all around them made in the jungle. The planet Myrkr wasn’t the most ideal place to establish themselves in his opinion. 

“It’s a base. Not a tree house.” Mingyu retorted, clearly unamused.

“Ooo, I’m more intrigued by the day.” 

“Cut it out Yugs. Maybe if we catch another vornskr I’ll let you keep it.” Mingyu grinned, being the first to lead them down the ramp and onto the landing pad. 

“Cute.” 

“I’m actually more interested in those weird lizard things sticking to all the trees. What’s with that anyways?” Seokmin asked. 

“They're called ysalamiri. They’re the vornskrs favorite snack.”

“Huh. Wonder why.” Seokmin let out, showing interest for the first time.

“I haven’t found out why but something tells me I will soon. If anything we can create a market for those things and sell them as pets.”

Yugyeom chuckled, slapping him on the back.

“Always coming up with ideas to make a few extra bucks.” 

“That’s why he’s the boss and not us.” Seokmin pursed his lips. 

Mingyu smirked.

“Keep that up and I’ll make you my second in command.” 

“You got it bo-

“I hope you’re joking Kim.” a sharp and venomous voice said, causing the three of them to whip their heads towards the owner of it.

In the center of the stone-brick landing ground and in front of the steps to the fort was a short figure dressed in all black. Seungkwan wore a sleeveless shiny black leather jumpsuit which was shaded in gray above the chest with the legs resembling more of a slick latex material. If it had just been baggy clothes or a fur coat, anyone may have thought that he was short and stocky. But since he was only wearing a millimeter thick layer of material it made him seem curvy and more well-defined. Mingyu being the scoundrel he was, didn't mind Seungkwan looking good on the job. Hell, the younger could probably try out to become a model rather than a mere minion to him. But then all of his employees would lose their motivation to work. After all, it helped having a pretty face to look at when all they had seen were the bloody faces they had broken or the tired and wrinkled faces of their clients and suppliers. 

“Why?” Mingyu cocked a brow. “You couldn’t possibly feel threatened could you?”

The brown-haired boy merely scoffed.

“Threatened? I’ve been through a lot in my short life time so you better believe it when I say it’s going to take more to make me feel threatened. But I’ll have you know that I was just being thoughtful when you said Yugyeom could be your second in command. I figured you wouldn’t want to waste all that time you spent grooming me.” 

Mingyu smirked.

“Right. My time  _ is _ valuable. Maybe I just thought you were worth it. You know, just because you’re an employee doesn’t mean we can’t spend some quality time together.” 

“No thanks Kim. Maybe when I call it quits and can’t manage to find anymore work, I’ll come running back to you.”

“I’d prefer if you crawled back to me on your knees actually.” 

Seungkwan gritted his teeth.

“Watch it. No amount of money can keep me from losing my temper.” 

“Right. I don’t want to make my greatest asset upset do I?”

“Probably smart not to.” Seokmin snorted next to him.

“Whatever Kim. I just came to tell you that you’re wanted in the comm center. Sammy’s got some information for you.”

“Hey, that’s what the boss loves. Sells more than ships and cargo.” Yugyeom chuckled.

“He loves it more than ass.” Seokmin added, earning an elbow from his boss.

“Cut it out. The both of you.” their boss growled. 

“Someone’s a little touchy.” 

“Tell that to Sturm and Drang. You know I missed out on feeding them this morning. I wonder if fake leather tastes good.” Mingyu snickered, fixing Seokmin’s jacket before he stomped off towards the comm center with Yugyeom and Seungkwan in tow.

Seokmin merely gulped, remembering how the boss’s two pet vornskrs didn’t like him one bit at all when they first met. If Mingyu ever got really mad… well…

He just hoped fake leather didn’t taste good.

**Author's Note:**

> Bad guys can become good, Wonwoo isn't totally lost. I can't believe I did this. IM SORRY
> 
> Also I will be updating my ABO fanfic Tea for Two tomorrow Oct 17 Check it out😊.


End file.
